New and New Again
by GabiD
Summary: An Easter story of memory and hope


Usual disclaimers apply. Don't own 'em; not making any money; just can't get enough of 'em.

**New and New Again**

Ascending the path back to the house, the judge took a moment to turn around for a last look at the ocean, quicksilvered with flashes of aquamarine, coral and gold from the rising sun. He sighed, overcome for a moment with memories of Easter mornings long past. He felt a strange melancholy, bittersweet with the life that would have been his – should have been his – had fate not intervened to take his son and wife away before their time.

He had so enjoyed Easter when his son was young. It was like a second Christmas in some ways, replete with hand-dyed blown Easter eggs strung on branches placed in beautiful tall enameled vases throughout the house. Masses of potted daffodils and fragrant hyacinths graced the diningroom table, the entryway and other fortunate locations. While his wife was busy getting their excited youngster to bed, Hardcastle would be busy hiding the plastic eggs and summertime toys about the lawns of the estate. Before going to bed himself, he would check the movie camera to be sure it was ready to go, and then stop in to drop a kiss on a downy cheek and smooth tousled hair back from the boy's forehead.

In the morning both parents would happily trail the boy as he raced excitedly from flower bed to flower bed with his large, rapidly-filling basket, examined the crevices at the base of trees, and poked his fingers about in large clumps of grass to find his sweet prizes. Hardcastle never tired of watching his little boy, so active and full of life and promise, collecting his treasures and crowing over them in his clear young voice.

Hardcastle shook his head, readjusted the baseball cap and flipped its brim up for a moment, and started walking back to the house. The breeze from the ocean was fresh and clean, and there was a comfortable silence punctuated only by the occasional birdcall. Dew glistened on the grass like crystal teardrops, and he pushed his memories to the back of his mind for another year.

Something caught his eye then. He walked over to pick it up, assuming it was a bit of errant rubbish, and gazed downward in astonishment. He bent over slowly to pick it up. It was a filled plastic Easter egg, gaudy with bright color and rattling with unseen treasure. As he looked about, he noticed more of them, all placed in strategic nooks and crannies in the flower beds, trees, shrubs and grass. Just when his pockets were full to bursting, he came across the wicker basket placed artfully at the bottom of a shrub, and found himself filling it up as he walked to the gatehouse.

"McCormick! McCormick, get your butt down here! Now!" The bellowing came out a bit harsher than intended, but had its desired effect. Around a corner the judge spied the curly head and beaming grin of the young ex-con.

"Just what do you think you're doing, McCormick? Littering all over my lawn? I pay you to _keep_ it up, not _clutter_ it up, ya know!"

"Aw, Judge, c'mon. Just thought I'd see if you could play follow-the-leader, y'know?"

"Follow-the-leader?!"

"Well, maybe more like connect the dots, or follow the clues or somethin'. I dunno. I saw the stuff in the store and somethin' made me buy it. I didn't mean to offend you, Judge. I'll go and pick 'em all up and get rid of 'em if ya want."

The judge looked down at the basket he clutched in his hand and blinked rapidly. Hoarsely he said, "Nah. I needed the exercise. Missed my morning workout, although getting' down to that beach kinda took it out of me this morning. Although I'm not sure all those deep knee-bends were exactly the best medicine." He cleared his throat.

It hadn't been a year yet, and the young ex-con with the back-talking mouth and smart attitude had managed to get around Hardcastle's defenses without him being truly aware of it. Mark evinced a childlike enthusiasm for things most people took for granted, like going to baseball games, the judge's frequent poker games, and any holiday. Even National Hotdog Day was occasion to celebrate for the kid. Mark had also demonstrated a loyalty to Hardcastle which the judge found hard to fathom. Sometimes he just couldn't make this kid out. They were definitely fond of each other, and the simple fact that Mark had gone to all the effort to make Easter morning fun for Hardcastle spoke volumes of the affection the young ex-con bore toward the judge.

"Well, okay Judge. So, you think you got 'em all, or do we have to play hot and cold, too?" He laughed as the judge swatted him on the arm as they walked through the door of the gatehouse into the brightening sunshine of a glorious Easter morning.


End file.
